Friday, June 17, 2016

Oh No!

So H has taken to saying "Oh No!" every time she drops something/spills something/sees something fall/something goes wrong/is sitting peacefully in her crib by herself. Usually accompanied by hands on cheeks Home Alone style. It's become the default expletive in our household. Claire drops a spoon on the floor? "Oh, No!" H shuts off the TV while playing with the remote? "Oh No!" I miss when throwing my clothes in the hamper? "Oh No!"

I had an Oh No! moment on Wednesday. I biked to work. That is to say I biked most of the way to work. About 4 miles into my 5 mile commute, I broke the chain on my bike.

Okay, Andrew. You've got about a mile to go and you have a non-functioning bicycle. What should you do?

I pondered this question for a couple minutes and formulated a plan. I would push my bike up the hills, ride my bike down the hills, and stand on one pedal and treat my bike like a scooter on level ground. I realized several things.
1. My ankle does not like it when I put all my weight on it and ride my bike like a scooter.
2. I desperately needed air in my tires. When every second counts, you realize quickly what's slowing you down.
3. I need a chain tool to carry around on my bike.

By some miracle I was only 5 minutes late to work. I teach drum line at summer school. The class next door is doing bike repair. I know, awesome, right? All the classes at my summer program are awesome. So over lunch I ask the bike repair teacher if he has a chain breaker. He doesn't. But he should. So over prep I borrow another teacher's car and drive home, get my own chain breaker, drive back, and repair my chain.

With about two minutes to spare, I run down to the staff bathroom with possibly the greasiest hands I've ever had and destroy the sink. I try to wipe it down the best I can with paper towels, but I think I have to do something nice for the building engineers now. I'm sorry.

I run back up, teach my final class of the day, fill up my tires with a pump from the bike repair class, and bike home without incident. Other than running into two former students skateboarding down the bike path and chatting a while. Sometimes Minneapolis feels more like a small town than a big city.

Here's the moral of my rambling story. Whether you drive, walk, bike, skateboard, or blimp to work, something could happen to you. Be prepared.